A week ago Travis, two of our buddies, and I went out to a little ghost town in Northern California known as Downieville. Downieville is an old mining town, and thanks to those miners for leaving such an amazing litany of trails. Erosion control and forest services have diverted some of the original paths, but that day consisted of 14 miles, most of it downhill, with over 4300 feet of elevation drop. We arrived around 10 a.m. We were crossing our fingers that we can hop on the shuttle, as we didn’t really call ahead. Fortunately our poor planning didn’t slow us down too much. The mid 90’s conversion van was chugging up hill: our team of four, plus one straggler and the driver, who’s not in the least bit intimidated by the tight, slick, two-lane
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